Perfect World. (On Hold)

7: Mark.

Name: Mark

Location: On the way to field runway near Hot Springs.

Time: 0900

Mark glanced over at his passenger. She was asleep. He had noted the red, tired eyes almost immediatly. That, along with some scratches and dirt had been the first things to confirm she was the woman in the photo, having obviously been on the run.

He didn't know much about his passenger, only her name and that she was a valuble writer. He was never given much information about those he rescued, only enough to find them. He glanced at his watch. He was expected to report in soon. He saw a car coming in the distance and turned off onto a different dirt road. He didn't want anyone to see him or his passenger.

A sleeping passenger was more noticable than someone who was awake. A talking driver was more noticable than one who was silent. He mentally stopped the thoughts. He had a long mental check-list of things to avoid doing, and the entire thing would run through his mind for hours if he let it. 

He turned back on to the previous road after a mile, knowing it had the least houses along it. He'd spent several hours after he was first alerted of the rescue operation studying satalite images of the erea. They arrived at the feild safely, and he tapped his passenger on the shoulder.

"We're here." He explained as she lifted her head and glanced around, blinking slowly. She rubbed her eyes, fixed her glasses, and slid her laptop back in her bag. He climbed out of the truck, pulling a sub-machine gun from the backseat. He scanned the field, then moved to her side, opening the door. "Lets move." He ordered.

She winced as she dragged herself out, grabbing her bag and slipping it over her shoulder. She pulled out her pistol, obviously following his example. Good, it meant she would learn the routine quickly. "Do you have friends waiting onboard?" She asked, the fog of her sleep already whisked away. "No." 

She nodded and they jogged to the plane, staying low. He noted that she was comfortable running low, and had obvious practice in the awkward position. They reached the plane and he threw the door open, quickly scanning the interior with his weapon. "Clear." He glanced behind himself. She had turned around to cover his back. 

He climbed in, then offered her a hand up when she turned around. He shut the door, then searched the rest of the plane while she stared out the window, still scanning the field. "All clear. You'll find anything you need in the blue cubby." He said, moving into the cockpit. Within minutes the plane was in the air, safe from regular gunfire.